I Am The One
by TheRussianGaaraKid
Summary: Every summer is the same, Lovino would visit like clock work, but this time it's a bit of a switch up as the Italian begins to act strangely. In the typical Spanish fashion Antonio doesn't really notice until the Italian explodes on him. How could the Spaniard show his little tomato how much he means to him? This is a story inspired by the song "Yo Soy Aquel". NOT A PAIRING.


Anime: Axis Powers Hetalia

Characters: Spain and South Italy (Romano)

Genre: Hurt/ comfort & humor

_[I DO NOT OWN HETALIA, THE CHARACTERS OR THE SONG BEING USED IN THIS FIC]_

_A/N:__ I'm currently writing this in on my first flight of the day to Florida, not really happy with American Airline, but it could be worse... Anyway this is a song inspired story. There is no romance per say, but the quality of caring for the other person is what made me want to write this. (I had to finish this when I got home since the place I was staying at in Paraguay had no internet service T.T) 7/23/13: I know I was supposed to be posting this earlier, but I'm lazy and sick... sorry *insert sad face* I had a great time in Paraguay even if I was bitten alive by mosquitos and wasps called vutu or something like that. Sorry for procrastinating ~therussiangaarakid_

**Yo Soy Aquel:**

Spain during the summer is magical to say the least, it's true especially when spending the afternoon by the small windswept villa adjacent the clear navy ocean. Antonio prided himself of his summer home, with the warm sandy pathways and cool shelters of shade for afternoon fiesta. Perhaps the thing he loved the most, however, was the frequent companion he always found himself with under the protection of a nearby tree. No matter how unwilling and seemingly unhappy the auburn hair Italian seemed, Lovino, came without fail every summer to visit his old boss.

Antonio smiled happily spotting the familiar curly strand of muted red coming from the large hammock. He knew the tiny Italian would blow a fuse at the fact he hadn't been there when he arrived, but he fixed his grip on his favorite tomato messenger bag he used when grocery shopping and walked just a bit faster. Feeling lips quiver with unquenchable excitement the Spaniard unlocked his gate avoiding the tiny turtles lazing about.

"Bien Venidos a España" the brunette chirped gently rocking the hammock to gently get the Italian's attention. Nothing happened, the hot headed nation merely laid there in the matador inspired sling ignoring the nation and the insistent motion. Hazel eyes stared bored towards the placid sea as small waves crashed into the yellow sand and the jagged rocks by the shore.

"You were gone for a while, bastardo" Something was off with the response from the Italian. The normal bite in the insult was gone, and the normal fire burning in the Italian felt lukewarm. Quirking an eyebrow Antonio leaned forward to face the unusually quiet Lovino to check if he was sleep talking.

"Perdón, Lovi, I went to the market to get some tomatoes" emphasizing his remark by lifting a batch of crimson ripe fruit from the bag and offering it to the oddly somber nation. He expected the normal aggressive snatching of the fruit from the nation, but Lovino merely nodded in acknowledgement before staring out into the ocean again.

"You changed where you keep the spear key, idiota. I've been laying here for a while" The Italian growled with a more recognizable tone. It wasn't quite like his normal bite, but it was getting there.

Chuckling a bit relieved by the semi-normality of the conversation, Antonio, placed the tomato back into his bag. "Sí, that would be because of the turtles, they almost ate the last key I have." the Spaniard watched as the Italian grimaced at the mention of the reptile. For the life of him he couldn't figure out why his little tomato was so uncomfortable around the harmless creatures.

"Well whatever, I wanna go inside and shower. The trip was too friggin' long and stupid Feli kept talking about the damn potato." Nodding the Spaniard reaching into his back pocket and fished out his keys unlocking the door.

"The spare's inside... encima de la mesa" The Spaniard called out as he began digging through his mailbox for the letter he was supposed to get from his boss this week. Leafing through them he wasn't surprised to see that some where already opened, probably from the bored Italian now residing in his home. He didn't really care, but something caught the Spaniard's eye, an envelope that was oddly wet.

Taking the envelopes inside to look over later the nation walked inside placing the groceries in their respective place and began to cook up some lunch. Smiling victoriously the Spaniard finished up his dessert fishing out the piping hot churros and setting them on the counter top to cool, knowing Lovino the Italian would really like the sugar drenched treat.

"Lovi, almuerzo" Antonio began to set up the plates and silverware when an oddly red rimmed eyed Italian strolled into the kitchen with a towel still covering his moistened locks. "Ayúdame con los vasos, por favor, Lovi"

The Italian sucked his teeth in annoyance, but quickly went over to the cupboard and fished out two cups. Catching a whiff of the sickly sugary treat a little jump interrupted his normal blood rate at the thought of snacking on a churro. Sure, there were churros in his home, but they were never like the ones the Spaniard made (not that he'd ever admit it).

The two nations sat down quickly with Spain doing a quick prayer while Lovino simply rolled his eyes at the "stupid tradition". The rest of the lunch was spent in idle conversation as the Antonio politely asked questions and Lovino begrudgingly answered whichever he cared to answer. Some jokes were exchanged, until of course Antonio went a little too far.

"Lovi~, recuerdo cuando era un niño y solo quería comer lo que había. Tú era tan pesado, siempre haciendo un desastre, y cuando hiciste algo mal solo lloraba. Pero tú y tu hermano era el mismo, el fue más sociable. ¿Acuerdes del único palabra que sabia en Español?" Antonio kept on throwing memories out at the Italian, however he failed to notice the darker expression that was being etched on the other's face. At the last question the Italian abruptly stood up slamming his palms on the table (in a very German way) glaring at the Spaniard viciously.

"Se ti è piaciuto Feli tanto perché hai prendere lui, Bastardo. Ti odio! IO non sono stupida, lo so che è stata appena secondo appetibili per chi lo voleva la prossima cosa migliore. A tutti piace Feli, anche voi, testa de cazzo." Lovino growled out as he took the necklace he had around his next and chucked it at the stunned Spaniard. "I'm out"

The wooden door slammed shut snapping the nation out of his state of shock, green eyes lowered to the antique looking crucifix. Old eyes examined the familiar looking wooden relic in curiosity, the grooves were worn with age erasing what was Jesus' face. On the bottom was a date written in worn numerals, but suddenly green eyes widened in recognition.

"Spagna" A tiny frantic voice echoed in the empty garden on the cool August afternoon, ignoring the voice the Spaniard calmly went about tending his tomatoes in silence. "Spagna! Che, Bastardo" Little Lovino ran over to the crouching nation trying to hide his reddened face with his tiny fists. His tiny legs carrying him as fast as possible as heavier steps resounded behind him.

"Lovi, te dije que eso no se dice- oof" The tiny Italian body slammed into the older nation hiding his face from view. Surprised the Spaniard wrapped his arms around the tiny nation and naturally began to comfort Romano. He ignored the feeling of someone glaring at him from behind and instead rocked the child in his arms, disciplining would come after he comforted the child. "Que paso, Lovi? Porque estas llorando?"

No answer was given, instead the Spaniard sat there patiently cooing the tiny nation into calmness. "Ya, no llores mas. No llores, no llores. Nada pasó, estoy aquí". It went on until Antonio himself felt exhausted, finally Lovino whispered the only phrase he could through his hiccups. "Perdón"

Confused Spain lifted the child until they were face to face "Porque estas pidiendo perdón?".

Feeling exposed the Italian lowered his gaze staring at the floor. "Sto andando all'inferno perché sono un cattivo ragazzo" he murmured sadly. His hazel eyes began to water again from the thought and had Antonio's heart clench at the sight.

"No, no es cierto, te vas al cielo con los otros niños guapos. Pero no ahora, ahora te quedas conmigo y no voy a perderte." softly Antonio kissed the child on the forehead and ruffled wild auburn hair. Smiling serenely the Spaniard reached behind his neck and unclasped the crucifix carefully and moved over to re-clasped it on the Italian's neck. "Dios te bendiga" he placed the pendant on the Italian's lips before taking his arm and performing the sign of the cross on him.

Little was said after that and when Antonio found out it was the local altar boy that had said that to his young charge... things weren't pretty. The usually mild natured Spaniard lost his temper yelling at the teenager about the various points of the religion that seeks salvation and how it was a really stupid idea to say such careless things to a child.

Sighing the Spaniard clenched the cricifix and frowned at how he'd gone back on his promise. He had lost the Italian and at times he really did worry for the Italian's soul, but he was always to have him around. He would never chose Feliciano over Lovino, not even if he had gotten first dibs on the Roman Empire. He wasn't sure why the Italian was so insecure about his place in the Spaniard's heart, but it needed to end.

Deciding on giving the younger nation a couple of minutes to cool down the nation decided to open his mail. Junk. Junk. More Junk. It looked like the only thing left was the opened soggy letter, which Antonio opened curiously. Humming a tune the Spaniard read over the letter growing more and more stunned until he stopped humming completely. 'Mierda' Spain thought as he quickly pulled out his cell phone and called his boss.

The letter had contained a proposition from Antonio's boss to use his relationship with Lovino (whom his boss referred to as el diablo Italiano) to get the deal his boss have been pushing with Feliciano's boss. It had something to do with land rights and he blatantly told the nation to use the Italian in any way, there were some (unfunny) jokes that were added on and even some not so innocent suggestions. Sighing, the exasperated Spaniard ranted for the next hour at his boss for the unprofessional letter that was not funny, nor appropriate. He had received an apology and even managed to get his boss to write a letter of apology to both Lovino and his boss for his selfish, unprofessional act.

A little before sun down Antonio began to worry, Lovino left his bag in the guest bedroom and the spare key was missing. It was a good sign that the younger nation planned on returning, but it still bothered the Spaniard that he was alone and emotionally unstable. The parental side of him wanted to hug the pain away and explain everything. The nation part of him wanted to seek Romano out and never let him go. The human side of Antonio wanted nothing more than to let out his emotions and so after digging through his old instruments he found his guitar and headed for the hammock.

As expected the Italian was there with a similar expression he wore earlier that day, his eyes were watery and his cheeks a dark pink. A scowl graced his features once he saw the Spaniard, however, he made no move to leave. Instead he looked away from the Spaniard and tried to ignore him.

"Go away, you're just using me. You selfish pig"

Shaking his head the nation took a seat on a nearby chair and began to tune his guitar. He was happy that the Italian decided to stay, but he didn't want to get his hopes up that the Italian would actually stay for the entire song. It wasn't as though the song were something he'd expect Lovinio to listen to.

"Lovi, I'm not sure what is going through your mind most of the times, and at times I feel like you simply love to cause scenes. The one thing that you seem to always hold tightly to is the stupid thought that I don't love you, or care for you. That is not true, it never was. I chose you, not Feli and I have never regretted that because you are special to me." Antonio began to strum the strings on his guitar absently looking at the hiding Italian who was still refusing to look at him. "I don't care what my boss wants, in fact, he could choke on his ego for thinking I would use you like that. I care for you, even now when you seem to take every chance to tell me how much you hate me or can't stand me. I raised you, you are the only one that matters to me other than God himself. Do you know how much I care for you?"

The Italian scoffed at the short speech crossing his arms in retaliation, he didn't believe a word the Spaniard spoke. They weren't called love countries for nothing, they would sweet talk their way out of any situation. Inside he wanted to believe the Spaniard though, because no matter how many terrible times he had with the elder nation, he knew that he had many better times that out weighted the bad. He had been lucky enough to have gotten such a laidback boss considering the other nations he could have been taken by.

Sighing the Spaniard felt as though English was perhaps the worst language to try and express his emotions with. The words were not fluid and held no emotion behind, but he feared speaking Spanish, because the Italian might just get angry for favoring his own language.

After fighting himself with his choice of language, finally his large calloused fingers began strumming a familiar tune. He'd first heard this song back in 1966, when he'd gone to Eurovision in Luxembourg to support his contestant and fell in love with the song. It had felt special to him, the lyrics and the music, and he'd vowed never to sing the song unless it was to someone special (now being the best time).

Nodding to the soft music the Spaniard cleared his voice letting the lyrics flow to his mind as though it were just yesterday that he'd heard the song and let himself let go off his emotions through the lyrics.

_Yo soy aquel que cada noche te persigue._

_Yo soy aquel que por quererte ya no vive._

_El que te espera, el que te sueña,_

_el que quisiera ser dueño de tu amor,_

_de tu amor._

Thinking back into the later years Antonio stared up at the darkened sky with mixtures of dark blue and yellow as the sun fought to keep its hold on the sky. But the moon want the sky for itself pushing the sun away to make room. Memories of as crying Lovino flooded his vision as he closed his eyes, times where the child would wet his bed, coming to him for comfort. Nights where the crashing thunder would scare the nation into his awaiting arms brought a smile at the innocence he had always shown. Even during cold nights when even the nation couldn't stand being alone, he would cuddle like a cub next to Spain at night.

_Yo soy aquel que por tenerte da la vida._

_Yo soy aquel que estando lejos no te olvida._

_El que te espera, el que te sueña,_

_Aquel que reza cada noche por tu amor._

The lyrics spurred up memories of the nights Antonio would stay up praying over the sick child, praying that he'd would get better or that his soul would be spared for the hardships of being a nation. He watched as the independent nature of the Italian began to grow until he would start asking for freedom. Sadness at seeing the child he'd raise leave him seeking to be freed, calling out that he hated him and no longer needed him. Still he would call out for the Italian and watch out for him, he'd do whatever to protect his little tomato.

_Y__ estoy aqui, aqui para quererte._

_Estoy __aqui, aqui para adorarte._

_Yo estoy aquí, aquí para decirte_

_que como yo nadie te amo._

Reels of the moment that Antonio first saw little Romano filled his mind, he faintly heard the sound of rustling in front of him. Eyes still closed he sought to embrace the ecstatic happiness that he'd felt upon having a "little brother". He giggled at the scowl on the young child's face and vowed never to hurt him intentionally from that day on, he'd want to keep him safe afterall. The delicate skinned child fussed in his arm calling out for his twin, but knowing that it would be a while until they'd see each other after the fall. Sadly Lovino would watch as his brother was tossed around as though he were nothing but a treasured item, while he stayed with Antonio. Jealousy bloomed, but he knew he was cared for and Antonio would always go out of his way to help him... even if he was a pain in his ass most of the time.

_Yo soy aquel que por tenerte da la vida,_

_Yo soy aquel que estando lejos no te olvida,_

_El que te espera, el que te __sueña_

_Aquel __que reza cada noche por tu amor._

Flashes of past wars flashed in his mind, he ignored the feeling of fingers lightly ghosting on his shoulders. Instead he focused on the vision of a scared Lovino, who was forced once more into fighting by his boss, trying to hold himself together in the face of chaos. Not once did he ask for assistance braving what he could, but in those instances Spain would do anything to take away the haunted gaze and the chaos he'd seen. Holding out a hand to comfort the nation only to be pushed aside viciously, the poor nation wouldn't even tell who was the enemy anymore. Hugging the injured nation ignoring the pain radiating from angry fists, he prayed once more for his little tomato, for him to be spared and find love in a world of hate.

_Y estoy aquí, aquí para quererte._

_Estoy aquí, aquí para adorarte. _

_Yo__ estoy aqui, aqui para decirte_

_Amor__, amor, amor, amor..._

As he finished the last of the song Antonio sighed strumming the last string. He usually didn't allow himself to indulge in his memories, some being way too raw for his liking. Lazily he let his eye lids open in a leisurely pace, he was ready to face the angry Italian. To his amazement the auburn haired nation wasn't laying on the hammock anymore. 'Se fue' he thought to himself in disappointment as he lowered his guitar on the ground.

He should have seen that coming but that didn't stop him from rubbing his face with his hands wiping away the moisture, sweat and unshed tears, from his face. He didn't expect to feel two arms snake around his shoulder and lock in place, he felt shallow breathing from behind his ear and smelt the familiar scent of pasta and parsley.

"Why can't I hate you, you stupid old bastard?" Lovino whispered huffing in annoyance as he tightened his back hug.

"Because you love this 'stupid old bastard'" Antonio mumbled as he lowered his hand chuckling a bit at his response. His little tomato never left him.

Lovino felt awkward hugging like this, but for some reason he felt like a child again looking for comfort even if his pride hurt. He wanted to kick the Spaniard or smack him for making him feel like this, especially to the point of making him feel bad for (perhaps) overreacting.

"I don't know, old man, do I love you?"

"Sí, mi tomate, you love me. Te amo también (I love you too)" he turned and returned the hug. He patted the younger nation's back comfortingly before letting go. "Let's go inside, I made churros" Spain grinned at the annoyed look Lovino gave him.

Inside Lovino smirked, even if his "older brother"/ boss/ father figure was an insensitive asshole sometimes he was right about somethings. He did care for him, loved him as family, and even if he couldn't properly convey these feelings, he tried to show. I mean hell he traveled hours with his annoying brother every summer and took the same damn boat through the boiling summers day just to see the damn Spaniard. He cared. He just needed to be reminded of the other's feelings towards him at times.

"I want a lot of sugar on mine"

**Translations: WARNING: Italian is not a language I speak fluently, I can speak Spanish, Guaraní, Russian, Japanese and English (English being my first language). If something is written incorrectly... blame the internet and the terrible translations given! Sorry if the Italian disgraces your eyes, I have no idea how to speak it even if it is "similar to Spanish" (not really). Also if any of the Spanish is incorrect... well that would be embarrassing, but sorry 'bout that. I don't usually write in Spanish, but I write the way I speak... informally (I tried to correctly write it out at least). **

**Spanish:**

**1) Bien**** Venidos**** a**** España****- Welcome to Spain (I meant this as irony since the personification of Spain is saying this... yes I know this is a strange line, don't judge me)**

**2)**** Perdón****- Sorry or pardon, ****Sí****- yes,**

**3)** **encima**** de la mesa- on top of the table**

**4)** **almuerzo****- lunch,**** Ayúdame**** con los**** vasos****,**** por**** favor- Help me with the cups, please**

**5) Recuerdo cuando era un niño y solo quería comer lo que había. Tú era tan pesado, siempre haciendo un desastre, y cuando hiciste algo mal solo lloraba. Pero tú y tu hermano era el mismo, el fue más sociable. ¿Acuerdes**** del**** único**** palabra que sabia**** en**** Español****?"- I remember when you were a boy and you only wanted to eat whatever was there. You were really annoying, always making a mess and whenever you'd do something bad, you'd cry. But your brother was the same, only he was more social. Do you remember the only word you knew? **

**6)**** te**** dije que eso**** no se dice- I told you not to say that,**** Que paso****, Lovi?**** Porque estas llorando****- What happened, Lovi?**** Why**** are**** you crying****?**

**7) Ya, no llores mas. No llores, no llores. Nada pasó, estoy aquí- Stop**** crying already****. ****Don't cry, don't cry. Nothing happened, I'm here. **

**8) Porque estas pidiendo perdón- why are you asking for forgiveness?**

**9) No, no es cierto, te vas al cielo con los otros niños guapos. Pero no ahora, ahora te quedas conmigo y no voy a perderte- No, no that isn't true, you're going to heaven with all the other good boys. ****But not now, now you'll stay with me and I won't lose you**.

**10) Dios te bendiga- God bless you, el diablo Italiano- ****the****Italian****devil****, se fue- he left**

**Italian:**

**1) If you liked Feli so why did you take him, Bastard. I hate!****I'm not stupid, I know I was just second pickings left for whoever wanted the next best thing. Everyone loves Feli, even you, you dickhead. **

**2)Bastardo- bastard, Spagna- Spain,**

**3) Sto andando all'inferno perché sono un cattivo ragazzo - I'm going to hell because I'm a bad boy"**

_Lyrics in English:_

_I'm the one who, every night, follows you_

_I'm the one who, for loving you, no longer lives_

_The one who waits for you, the one who dreams of you_

_The one who'd like to be the owner of your love_

_Of your love_

_I'm the one who, for having you, gives his life_

_I'm the one who, being faraway, doesn't forget you_

_The one who waits, the one who dreams of you_

_The one who prays every night for your love_

_And I'm here, here to love you_

_I'm here, here to adore you_

_I'm here, here to tell you_

_That no one loved you like I did_

_I'm the one who, for having you, gives his life_

_I'm the one who, being faraway, doesn't forget you_

_The one who waits, the one who dreams of you_

_The one who prays every night for your love_

_And I'm here, here, to love you_

_I'm here, here, to adore you_

_I'm here, here to tell you_

_Love, love, love, love_


End file.
